


wanton camera: stay tuned

by st_elsewhere



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Barebacking, Blackmail, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Sequel, Sexual Tension, Unsafe Sex, hey how are you fellow gerlonso shippers?, or not? LMAO, plz comment, updated tags yo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-02
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-07-11 19:32:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7067164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_elsewhere/pseuds/st_elsewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>apparently, ‘dildo rider don dapper’ has three other similar videos in his account. if you guess his username rhymes with <i>SoftLad</i>, you guess it right.<br/><br/><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. rated M

**Author's Note:**

>   
> [wanton camera.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3118709) ~~you're welcome it's pr0n.~~  
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

apparently, ‘dildo rider don dapper’ has three other similar videos in his account. if you guess his username rhymes with _SoftLad,_ you guess it right. from the thumbnails of each videos, he appears to be alone, still in neat, tight shirts; his coy, amber eyes inviting perverts to click and watch him probably playing with a vibrator or anal beads or—

anyway.

it’s been three days and stevie has been mulling over the pros and cons of setting up _his_ _own_ account because that’s the only way for him to be able to access those videos. the pros consist of new and exciting orgasm experience involving watching a _man_ fucking himself with toys of the day, which is so unlike steven ‘stevie’ gerrard, the next in line of gerrard’s media kingdom. that, and he’s not even gay. stevie meets a lot of people in his thirty one years old age, beautiful women and prettier men, but no one has ever captivated his lust this _quick_. no one.

the cons are mainly technical. stevie needs to set up an account in this not-too-shabby website—at least that’s what he thinks, this is the only porn website he visits, thank you very much—setting up an account means stevie will have to fill in some informations like his email and card numbers. he’s sure he doesn’t have to pay to watch _SoftLad_ in action, but, um, what if one day the website changes its policy and stevie has to put in his card numbers all the same? that will be like, twice the effort, right?

ugh!

on the fourth day, stevie has an idea. he’s going to visit a gay bar. a very, very prominent gay bar in the heart of liverpool. his sources promise him he doesn’t need a certain dress code to get in there, but he needs a chaperone or else he won’t get out of there alive. that sounds scary, alright, but stevie is determined to find out whether he is really having a bi-crisis or he’s just so into _SoftLad_ it’s not even funny anymore. he’s going to mingle and see if any of the gay men in the club... arouse him the same way _SoftLad_ did. does.

on the fifth day, stevie chickens out. he apologizes to his chaperone, his personal assistant’s best friend; a twenty something writer who looks ordinary enough with hipster hair and shy smile, no dazzling outfits or eyeliner or fierceness. well, stevie is suspicious his personal assistant, lucy, is secretly playing a matchmaker but he doesn’t want to boost his ego for something that he willingly cut off in the last minute. thankfully lucy’s best friend is acting civil about it. so. no gay bar to visit, stevie opts to watch and watch ‘dildo rider don dapper’ for the rest of the night until he falls asleep, with _SoftLad_ haunting his dream; riding his cock on his very own living room’s sofa and in the bathtub of his en suite, moaning stevie’s name softly, begging stevie to fuck him _harder_ and _deeper_ and _more_.

stevie sleeps with a tall, pixie haired, art student girl on the sixth day, because he thinks she has the same aura as _SoftLad_ as she sits with her friends on stevie’s favorite pub, nodding and smiling calmly _._ stevie is so, so, _so_ screwed. a fucking aura. ha!

on the seventh day, stevie sees him.

it’s _SoftLad_ himself, right in the flesh, riding (no pun intended) the tube from liverpool central, sitting just one step away in front of stevie, reading a new copy of rolling stone with earphones on. jesus christ. stevie can’t _not_ stare. it’s really him. nothing changes. if stevie is being honest with you he’ll tell you that live version of _SoftLad_ is wearing the exact replica of those mouthwatering slim-fitted grey trousers like the ones in ‘dildo rider don dapper’. today’s neat, tight shirt is also white, and his black sweater really pops out the ginger stubble on his face. his leather oxford shoes are polished and he has a tattered but well-cared briefcase with him. everything about a breathing and reading and frowning and sighing _SoftLad_ screams natural poise and class.

stevie wants him.

the tube is deserted at this time of hour, right after lunch on a tuesday. stevie might be the next media mogul, but he uses public transportations because he likes it. he’s laying low since the beginning, nobody knows he’s the son of liverpool football club’s owner either. huh. they _better_ not, for stevie is going to be the most _reckless_ in all his thirty one years old glory.

coldplay is gracing rolling stone’s cover this month. stevie knows coldplay. like, personally. he parties with chris martin a couple of times and guy berryman was such a soft lad. heh. guy. what a quiet little mate. yeah. guy and _SoftLad_ could be brothers. ha ha.

alright.

time to be reckless.

stevie clears his throat. he’s partied with the frontman of one of the best alternative bands in the world. he can do this.

“their latest release is good.”

 _SoftLad_ blinks. he looks up from the magazine and fuckfuckfuck that’s a smile. that’s a fucking smile! it’s so breathtaking! stevie is glad he’s doing this!

“coldplay?” _SoftLad_ asks to confirm and stevie nods.

“yeah. are you a fan? ever been to their show?” stevie spreads his legs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. that way, his shoulders are bulking out nicely just like alex always gushed about.

“yes, they are just as amazing live.” _SoftLad_ says and stevie’s blood is singing because _SoftLad_ is speaking in accent. his english is accented. he sounds sexy and rough, surprisingly not soft. god. stevie _wants_ him.

“i’m stevie gerrard, by the way.” stevie says it nonchalantly, as if his cock is not stirring now that he gets _SoftLad_ ’s full attention.

“xabi alonso.” jesus christ what a beautiful name. what a beautiful smile. “nice to meet you, stevie.”

what a perfect human being...

“where are you heading?” stevie tries a little bit of a small talk. his next stop is three stations away. his aim is a phone number, or, you know, he’ll just follow xabi to wherever he’s going.

“i am going back to my office. just had lunch meeting with a client.” xabi puts the magazine away and closes his mouthwatering legs. legs that are so slim and just a step away from stevie’s reach.

“ah, lunch meeting. let me guess. a ceo of your own startup?” stevie gives xabi his best smile, one that alex hailed as his ‘stupidly charming’ asset. she said he _looks_ stupid smiling like that but somehow he can charm whoever he wants.

xabi smiles gently and shakes his index finger. cute. “you have two more chances.”

stevie grins. “no? a lawyer?”

“no.”

“aw. who are you then?” stevie is playing dirty. he pouts. alex said his pout can get him anywhere. “i mean, i’m a businessman and i don’t really have a schedule as for now.”

“i am an account executive in an advertising company.” see? _anywhere_. alex couldn’t handle it, and she was a _fierce_ woman. _SoftLad_ surely can’t! “i pitch out the ideas for the clients. um. enough about me. where’s your stop, stevie?”

stevie is familiar with account executives. groomed people. usually they party like wild animals though. not that stevie is complaining.

“listen,” stevie aims for the prize. less people stay in their carriage as they stop at huyton. his will be two stations from here. it’s now or never. “xabi, have i seen you from somewhere?”

there’s a slight change from xabi’s honest-to-god amber eyes, they don’t look so friendly anymore.

“pardon me?” and xabi’s smile turns polite. cold.

stevie doesn’t care. he wants xabi and he wants him now. this? what he’s doing? it’s recklessness at its finest.

“i mean it’s not everyday i can meet a ‘soft lad’, can i?”

 

 

 


	2. rated E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "let’s get this over with."  
>   
>   
> 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

it’s the most inconspicuous hotel at its best. stevie uses cash to book a room on the eighteenth floor with two double beds, and absolutely no touching SoftL— _no_ , xabi, during his exchange with the receptionist. he’s been patient for the last few days and this is his reward. he’s not going to spoil it on a tuesday afternoon.

no.

he doesn’t say a word when they’re alone in the elevator. he doesn’t push even when he’s unlocking the room with the card, showing the exact same replica of ‘dildo rider don dapper’ setting.

stevie is taking off his bomber jacket from tom ford when xabi clears his throat.

“let’s get this over with,” he says—mumbles, really—and stevie’s eyebrows go up in question. this poised man _filmed_ himself _fucking a dildo_ and uploaded it to the vast internet world for literally _everyone_ to see and now he’s got the gut to act all _pained_ and _above_ his favorite secret pastime?

hah. no fucking way.

“what’s the rush?” stevie throws his bomber jacket to the nearby bed.

there’s a slight tick on xabi’s jaw. “i... i have to get back to the office.”

“call them and make some excuses.”

xabi keeps his mouth shut.

“if they’re that petty, you can work for me.” stevie shrugs, sitting down on the single chair next to the opened windows. he hums. “i like the natural light. so! do you feel like a little chit chat? do you need to loosen up? have anything you want, xabi, it’s all on me.”

“i don’t want anything.” xabi mumbles, again, and he’s still clutching his briefcase like the tattered thing will deter stevie from using him however he wants.

“alright, then c’mere and suck my cock.” stevie is not this kind of asshole, usually, but something about xabi is either infuriating him _or_ turning him on beyond belief. he’s already half-hard as xabi puts all of his necessities aside, leaving him with just his crisp, _tight_ , white shirt and slim-fitted grey trousers. no more leather oxford shoes and black socks; stevie hates to admit that xabi’s ankles are thin looking and fragile, perfect for his hands to hold. or maybe squeeze, depending on their position later on.

anyway.

it’s a sight to behold. xabi down on his knees, that is. it’s his dream come true, after all. stevie might be squirming on his seat as xabi unbuttons his calvin klein jeans, and he might be sighing noisily as the zipper is going further south, but who the fuck cares. certainly not xabi who’s pulling down stevie’s jeans until they’re bunching on his calves. his soft, soft, _soft_ hands are gentle when they tug at stevie’s black, calvin klein’s classic boxer, revealing stevie’s still half-hard, maybe _harder_ , cock.

when xabi glances up, right hand fisting the length of stevie’s cock with his thumb rubbing the cockhead, stevie curses out loud.

xabi takes his time. stevie would like to think that’s because he’s _packing_ down there, but he’s not complaining either way. xabi doesn’t spit like a barbar to stevie’s cock or to wet his palms; he licks a long stripe from stevie’s cockhead down to stevie’s balls, slobbering. he shifts closer, resting his elbows on stevie’s spread thighs, opening his mouth wide before swallowing the throbbing head, using a little bit of teeth and a lot of wet tongue as he goes down some more.

stevie lets out a long moan.

xabi can’t deep-throat. he stops halfway until the bottom of his stretched lip is touching his fingers that are gripping the rest of stevie’s hard cock. yeah, no. stevie is not fucking complaining, though. he thrusts back into xabi’s warm mouth when xabi begins bobbing his head, slurping and sucking with his eyes closed and his cheeks reddened. xabi’s throat is contracting everytime he swallows, and stevie has to hold onto the back of xabi’s head for an anchor.

“ _fuck._ ” stevie growls, hips moving at their own accord that xabi is starting to make choked sounds. “look at me.”

xabi’s amber colored eyes are watering when stevie pulls at his hair, making him look up in question. stevie grins. this is real.

he pulls his cock out and xabi is panting in this totally wanton way that stevie remembers from his video. stevie puts his left thumb in that filthy mouth and xabi immediately latches onto it, looking like he will die if he doesn’t.

stevie hauls him up and they have to struggle for a moment because they’re roughly the same size. xabi manages to sit on his knees on either side of stevie’s lap, and his cock is straining in his trousers.

stevie kisses him. hard. their teeth clack and their noses bump against each other. he tastes like red wine and cherry. when stevie bites, xabi bites back, clawing at stevie’s plain black, prada t-shirt and rubbing his clothed ass against stevie’s leaking cock.

“ah—” xabi throws his head back as stevie moves his lips to the pulsing veins of his neck. he fumbles with his belt, and he cries out when he finally gets to stroke his hard cock in time with stevie leaving a bruise on the underside of his jaw.

“no no no don’t come yet,” stevie grabs the back of xabi’s knees and with a loud groan he gathers up his strength to stand. it’s a miracle that he doesn’t trip on his feet as he flings himself and xabi to the bed, locking xabi’s wrists to the bed, rutting their hips together.

xabi yanks one hand free, moving it to unbutton his shirt.

“keep—” stevie moans at the sight of a red trail from xabi’s neck disappearing down, halting his hips. “keep your shirt on. i’m fucking you like this. leave it.”

xabi kisses him.

stevie makes himself useful by taking off xabi’s trousers and discarding them along with xabi’s brief. xabi hooks his long, long, long legs to stevie’s waist, grinding and pulling him closer.

when stevie spurts out precome, he knows it’s time.

“hey, hey,” he laughs as xabi chases his moving lips. “hey,” he presses a quick kiss to xabi’s swollen lips before straightening up. “i’ll look for lube, okay?”

“n-no need, i—” xabi flushes. it’s weird but _endearing_. “i have my plug and it’ll do with just spit and precome.” and then he’s reaching down to his ass, in one smooth motion pulling out the same plug he used on ‘dildo rider don dapper’.

if stevie is whimpering, it’s nobody else’s business but his.

xabi flushes, again. he goes to his knees _again_ to swallow stevie’s cock, putting extra saliva there. again, if stevie is making noises that is inhuman, it’s nobody else’s business but his.

“fuck, come on then!” he pushes xabi to the bed, pinning him on his back as he uses his left hand to guide his cockhead into xabi’s gaping hole. jesus christ he’s sliding inside oh so easily, like knife slicing butter. but it’s tight. and hot. and so, so, so _wet_. stevie wills himself not to ejaculate _this_ early as he stops pushing in halfway.

meanwhile, xabi’s eyes are opened wide and his red throat is exposed. “oh, nnngh.” he bites his bottom lip, clinging to stevie’s shoulders. looking down to where their bodies are joined, his next moan is so _shameless_. “yes, _yes_. just like that.”

“ _fuck._ ” stevie’s whole body shudders when xabi rolls his hips, causing him to slip in an inch further. “fuck, xabi, what do i do?”

xabi doesn’t answer with words. he grabs a handful of stevie’s ass to push him in more while clenching his inner muscles and they both moan in unison. stevie gives an experimental thrust, and then he’s in to the hilt; his balls are snug against xabi’s ass and xabi nods.

“feel that?” he asks and stevie grunts before pulling back then slamming in, and repeat.

it’s a religious experience and stevie doesn’t think he will get enough of it. xabi is responsive to the slightest change of angles. and the sound he makes... _goddamn_ stevie knows he’s a great lover but this is _new_. who would have thought that wrecking another man could _feed_ his ego so well? xabi clenches at the right time, and if he’s hurting he just makes stevie want to keep hurting him. stevie holds xabi’s thin ankles, raising them high and maneuvering them as he pleases and xabi just _takes_.

when stevie comes, it’s with a shout and his vision goes white. he’s emptying his come inside of xabi, who has to cover his mouth with both hands or else he’s going to alert the whole building. he’s got tears streaming down his cheeks when they’re done, and he has come untouched, the fact that stevie realizes after he’s back from the afterglow.

“sorry, _fuck_.” stevie slides his cock out and grins at the way his come spilling out of xabi’s ass, staining the bed sheet. “sorry.” he plops down next to xabi on the bed, nuzzling xabi’s damp cheek and peppering tiny kisses all over. “sorry,” he says again for good measure.

xabi breathes out, and his voice is barely audible when he replies with a defeated _it’s okay._

stevie’s heart gives a troubled beat. “i won’t tell anyone,” he wipes the tears off with his thumb, hopefully gently. “i promise.”

“thank you.” xabi is closing his eyes and stevie doesn’t dare to let his touch linger.

“are you gonna leave?”

“do you want me to?” the softly spoken comeback sounds like a challenge. or maybe stevie’s brain is not working properly after such religious experience.

stevie pauses. “will you stay?”

when xabi opens his eyes, they’re void of any emotions.

“no, stevie.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>   
>   
>  okay folks, the real question; more on this verse? ~~i say yes.~~  
>   
>   
> 


End file.
